


Everybody Wants To Rule The World

by jungkooksfic



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Kageyama Tobio, Background Relationships, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Oblivious Sawamura Daichi, Sawamura Daichi's Thighs, Slow Burn, Team Mom Sugawara Koushi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27308428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungkooksfic/pseuds/jungkooksfic
Summary: In which Sugawara's high school band loses the bassist due to hand injury, and they scramble to get their shit together without him. Meanwhile, Suga decides to go to a real high school party and runs into a broad, hot guy who would prove time and time again that heroes were real, and he was one of them.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Everybody Wants To Rule The World

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this chaotic thing I've created.   
> The title is from the famous 80s song by Tears for Fears.

It was the first Saturday of summer and life had already taken a turn for the worst.

At least, according to Tanaka.

“That’s it! We’re doomed!” Noya wails with incredibly unnecessary drama as he fell to his knees and _literally_ shook his fists at the sky.

“Say goodbye, world! This is the end!” Tanaka pipes in, also shaking his fists. The thing about Nishinoya and Tanaka was that once one of them got wound up, the other would by default, no matter what the issue was. In this case, the issue was quite minor and not needing this soap opera-worthy spectacle.

“Just because Asahi broke his hand doesn’t mean the sky is going to cave in,” Sugawara says with a heavy, heavy sigh as his words didn’t seem to get even close to Tanaka and Noya, who were currently on the floor shaking each other. Sadly, this wasn’t an exaggeration.

“Someone had too much caffeine,” Hinata mutters not-so-quietly to their other first-year Kageyama, who actually smirked at the joke. Sugawara was baffled for a moment. He didn’t know that Kageyama Tobio could smile without looking like he had plans to lead all of humanity to its demise.

“How did you even get in here, midget?” Tsukkishima comments as he looks to the rather stout (yet fiery) red-head with distaste. It _was_ a valid question as Hinata quite frankly was musically challenged, and this was a _band._ However, Tsukkishima always made the mistake of picking on Hinata, who had the energy of someone 6 foot tall trapped in his tiny 5’3” body.

“I followed Bakageyama!” Hinata says cheerfully, but of course, Kageyama’s temporarily fond expression went sour as he smacked Hinata on the back of the head,

“Don’t call me that, dumbass!” Kageyama explodes, and Tsukkishima uses this as an opportunity to roll his eyes.

Sugawara was ready to rip his own hair out, on the other hand. Their bassist, Asahi, had broken his hand, making him unable to be part of the band. The funny thing was that he actually fell out of a _tree_ , to which Tsukkishima said _“what are you, an acorn? Who the fuck actually just- falls out of trees?”_

Asahi was, quite frankly, a ball of anxiety, but his power of silence was enough to bring some order to this group of hooligans. It had only been one hour without him and Tanaka and Noya had moved on to fake-crying intensely, Kageyama and Tsukkishima were trying to one-up each other and poorly assert dominance, and Hinata was close to injuring himself in the way he was stacking up all the guitar amps and attempting to climb on top of them.

“I’m gonna go,” Sugawara announces, not waiting for anyone to recognize what he said and instead sticking his hands in his front pockets and ignoring the distant “can you help me put this amp on the very top, Suga-san?” and leaving Nishinoya’s garage (their unofficial practice space over the summer). He forgot what quietness sounded like until he stepped outside. It was late, probably 10, but it was summer, and Suga didn’t have anywhere to be.

He sighed. The band truly meant a lot to him, and he knew it meant a lot to the other members, too. They had a lot of solid talent with the two guitar prodigies, Kageyama and Tsukkishima. Noya seemed to get his energy out by being a stellar drummer, and Tanaka, contrary to popular belief, was actually a fantastic vocalist. Sugawara was the keyboardist. But, as unlikely as this was, Tanaka and Noya were right. Without Asahi, the band was fucked.

 _Just another day in paradise,_ Suga thought to himself wistfully as he heard the distant sound of shattering glass and a loud “I’m okay!” that undoubtedly came from Hinata, who must’ve toppled off his throne of guitar amps. He almost turned around to ensure that their energetic redhead didn’t break any bones like Asahi, but the more he listened, the more he heard the presence of Kageyama’s gruff, flustered voice, saying something along the lines of “you dumbass, be more careful next time!”

Who would Suga be to interrupt such a precious moment?

So, he continued into the night, to his car, and left the band to sort their shit out by themselves.

______________________

Usually, Sugawara’s drive home from Nishinoya’s house was entirely uneventful. Well, that’s aside from the time that this girl around his age was leaning on his parked car, visibly wasted, and tried _so_ hard to get him to take her home. She dropped about every raunchy pick-up line the internet could provide, and didn’t stop until Suga shouted “I’m gay!” and drove away.

Surprisingly, this drive wasn’t so uneventful, despite it being 10 pm on a random summer Saturday.

It turns out, someone was hosting a big-ass party that was so _loud,_ Suga was surprised it hadn’t been shut down already. Parties in this neighborhood were notorious for being stopped before they even began as there were so many old people around with way too much time on their hands.

Despite being 18 and going into college, Sugawara had only attended one party (which he couldn’t really remember much of, aside from drinking something from a red solo cup and waking up shirtless on his own front lawn with his parents staring at him in complete disappointment. He was grounded for a long, long time after that). Judging the long, long line of cars trailing from the sidewalk in front of the already-trashed two-story house that, aside from the splattered eggs and toilet-paper covering the exterior, would otherwise look nice. The music was so loud and bass-boosted that Suga could feel the soles of his converse shoes vibrating. In fact, just _smelling_ the overly intoxicated teenagers was enough to make anyone throw up.

Based on these facts alone, the logical thing to do would be to turn around and go home, and cuddle up to watch some gay anime because _dammit_ Suga, why don’t you have a boyfriend?

But no, Sugawara wasn’t going to turn around. Because he was so damn stubborn that it would certainly lead him to his own death. And if his death was at some high school party, so be it. He would go out in style.

______________________

“So, babe.”

Suga didn’t bother turning around. Why would he? More importantly, why would someone be calling _him_ babe? That was the first mistake Sugawara made tonight: having faith in humanity. Even though the gruff, slurred voice was most certainly directed at his turned back, Sugawara would rather live in blissful ignorance than face whatever wasted frat boy this was. In fact, Suga was having a good time watching two guys try to drink the contents of their red solo cups without using their hands. Let’s just say that the majority of the drink ended up on their faces, or on the abused carpet.

“Hey, hot stuff, I’m talking to you.”

Suga nearly snorted at that. _Hot stuff?_ Man, whoever these names are directed to is a poor, poor soul-

And then came the distinct hand directly on his ass.

Oh.

_Oh._

Thoroughly irritated by now, Sugawara swiveled around to face this sorry individual. “Can I help you?” he says with utmost sarcasm. He looked the guy up and down. He looked like any typical heterosexual college boy: short blonde hair, greenish-brownish eyes that were extremely dilated, and the absolute _stupidest_ drunk expression.

“You sure can,” the guy drawls, “upstairs in the room on the left.”  
“Is that supposed to be charming?” Suga retorts, his arms crossing and his brows raising. He took a long, long sip from his drink. He’d have to get some of that in his system to get through this conversation.

“Looks like it worked on you.” The guy tries to wink, but really it looked like he was trying to aggressively blink something out of his eye. Suga actually cringed.

“Sorry, dude, I don’t swing that way.”  
He blinks, disoriented. “What do you mean? You’re not gay?”  
 _Wow, is it really that obvious? Sugawara made it through all of high school without an ounce of suspicion from his friends or parents._ “No, I just mean I don’t swing for _assholes._ ” Suga motions towards the stranger’s shirt, which read ‘Fuck Bitches Make Money’. “I _so_ appreciate the thought though.”

He laughs shortly, which wasn’t exactly the reaction Sugawara was expecting. The atmosphere of the party completely contradicted this as there were people cheering, laughing, shouting along to the loud music. But Suga just felt _uncomfortable_. Out of place. Like he should’ve listened to the voice in his head that told him to go home. The feeling hit him so suddenly and frankly out of nowhere as before this, he spent the previous half hour convincing himself that this was fun, watching everyone else have fun from afar. Sugawara could have pushed his way to the center of the dance floor, he could have joined in on those guys trying to drink beer with their arms behind their backs but he just _didn’t._

“I bet I can change your mind,” Stranger continues, stepping a little closer even though he had plenty of room to be a good two feet away. His breath fanned across Sugawara’s face, and it was exactly in this moment that he realized how much taller this guy was than him. He felt caged in. Trapped.

“I promise that you won’t.” He prayed that the guy couldn’t hear the discomfort in his voice. He felt hyper aware of how the stranger’s hand twitched. Even though his hand had left his ass, he could still _feel_ where it had been. Not in the longing sort of way. As if it had been burned into his skin. Nonetheless, Sugawara was seriously ready to karate chop this guy’s sorry ass.

“Come on, baby, why don’t you just give me a chance?-”

“He said no.”

Suga was so startled that he nearly dropped his drink. Actually, there was no _nearly_ about it. He literally dropped his drink and spilled it all over himself, but more importantly, on the douchebag. He bit his lip to prevent himself from bursting out laughing. Despite the fact his shirt now wreaked of alcohol, it was all worth it to see the drunken, disoriented expression that crossed this guy’s face.   
“Oops,” Suga says with the least apology in his voice possible. To his dismay, the stranger’s ugly Cheshire grin only widens,

“Looks like we both need to take off our clothes, huh?”

Suga sensed whoever had been behind him to step in front of him, and at first he flinched at the sudden movement, but soon relaxed once he realized that this stranger was standing in front of him protectively. “You really can’t take a hint can you, Chad? Get out before I tell Kuroo that you’re doing shit like this again.”

Suga couldn’t see this stranger’s face due to the lights just blinding enough to hide his face, but his voice was low, and authoritative. Sugar had to tilt his head a little to see over his shoulder, and see the expression of the guy, whose face dropped as soon as the name “Kuroo” was in the air.

“My name isn’t Chad,”douchebag stranger says.

“Might as well be,” sexy low-voice stranger said.

And, just like that, Chad (or whatever equally fuckboy name was actually his) turned around and disappeared into the sea of people crowded around the living room. Suga exhaled a sigh of relief he didn’t know he had been holding back.

“Not all heroes wear capes,” Suga says, having to practically shout over the music. He rested his hand on sexy low-voice stranger’s shoulder. _Wow, he’s got some muscle._ “Thanks for helping me out there. I appreciate it.”

And then the handsome stranger turned around.

Suga wanted to _die_ because why the _fuck_ do people this hot have to exist?

Despite his love for romantic comedies, he separated them as fiction, as a guilty pleasure. Whenever the main character would stumble into the love interest, or the world would dramatically slow down as they saw them for the first time, Suga would always think the same thing: _cute, but unrealistic._

Well, turns out he was so, so, _so_ wrong.

Because the world most certainly stopped as soon as Sugawara got a good look at this guy. The loud music faded to white noise and the people around him drunkenly stumbling and occasionally bumping into him didn’t even cross his mind.

He didn’t even know this guy’s name, but he could tell the kind of person he was through his eyes. They were big, brown, sweet yet fierce. He had a strong jaw and a tall figure that had the kind of soft yet well-built muscle to him. He looked like he gave the absolute _best_ hugs.

“Of course,” the stranger replies, and suddenly the world was back up to speed. Sugawara blinked as he saw him smile, and _fuck_ Sugawara was _so_ dead.

“I’m Sawamura.” He holds out his hand to Suga, and Suga shakes it without hesitation. He has nice hands to hold. Big, but soft… _Why the fuck am I thinking about this?_

“Sugawara,” he says smoothly, despite his erratic thoughts spiraling out of control. “Everyone calls me Suga, though.”

“Everyone, huh?” Sawamura tuts, “even Chad?”  
At that, Suga actually laughs, “no, Chad can call me _uninterested._ ”

And then Sawamura laughs, and Suga hopes he can’t see the way that he actually _melts_ at the sound. Usually Suga isn’t so weak, really, but something about Sawamura just made him that way.

“I have beer on my shirt,” Suga announces, and it wasn’t until that moment that he realized he was actually pretty drunk. He could tell by how the room seemed a little more out of focus than usual, and everything just seemed so _funny._ “I think I have another in my car.” He turns his back to Sawamura before he backtracks and looks over his shoulder. “Wanna come?”

Suga was too drunk to regret that statement, but it didn’t seem to matter either way because Sawamura looked unbothered, if not a little bit surprised. “Um, sure,” he answers, though it sounded more like a question. “Promise you won’t kidnap me though.”

Suga flashes a smile, “well, now that you say it, you have me thinking…” He laughs at the way Sawamura’s eyes actually widen a little, “I’m joking, I’m joking. I’m too drunk to kidnap anyone right now.”

Together, they weave through the maze of people, Suga leading them. He didn’t realize he had grabbed for Sawamura’s wrist and was now tugging him along until halfway through the journey out of the house, yet he figured if Sawamura hadn’t pulled his hand away by now, he could hold on just a little bit longer.

“Yeah, you are pretty drunk,” Sawamura agrees, and Suga realized that now they were outside, he could actually hear Sawamura’s voice without his ears ringing from the music. When he turned around, he noticed how Sawamura’s face was illuminated by the soft starlight. It seemed that his big, dark eyes captured every single star.

Suga realized he was still holding his wrist. He didn’t want to let go, but he did. Their hands both fell back to their sides. The air was much cooler than the humid atmosphere there in the party, cool enough that Suga could feel the hairs on his arms rising. The beer-drenched shirt seriously wasn’t helping.

With a lot more stumbling and shivering, Suga finally made it to his car in one piece, and he hadn’t managed to scare off Sawamura yet (which was kind of surprising).

“Shit,” Suga suddenly blurts as soon as he leans in through the passenger door of his car, “I don’t have my extra shirt in here.” With the least grace possible, Suga wiggles out from his car and leans against it with a small sigh.

“You can borrow mine,” Sawamura says abruptly, causing Suga’s brows to raise.

“So you’re just going to walk around shirtless?” _I mean, I don’t mind or anything-_

“No!” Sawamura says quickly, and even through the darkness Suga swore he could see him blushing. Sawamura clears his throat in attempts to collect himself. That’s something that Suga noticed about him. He’s a very put together person, from the outside at least. He wondered what was under that facade, what Sawamura was like when he didn’t feel the need to always be strong. He wondered what kept him awake at night, what his first name was, what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go. Suga wanted to listen to him ramble about some random thing that he got excited about and _fuck_ why was alcohol only enhancing Sugawara’s awareness that he didn’t have a boyfriend-

“Suga?”

“Huh? I’m so sorry, were you saying something?” Suga blinks and comes back to earth as opposed to whatever dream land he had been in before. Sawamura smiles a patient smile that shines even through the thick darkness and distant music vibrating from the party they just left.

“I said that you can borrow my jacket.”

“Really? Thanks, Sawamura. You’re a real life saver.” _Ohoho. Maybe this night isn’t so unfulfilling after all._ Suga pulls the ruined white t-shirt over his head and carelessly tosses it into the back seat of his car, and swivels back around to see Sawamura standing there awkwardly as if he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Are you just- changing right here?”

Sugawara shrugs nonchalantly. He had never been a shy-type person in any way, really. So did he mind changing is shirt in front of a stranger’s house? Not particularly, no. Suga was something of a daredevil, so compared to the ridiculous things he did due to the famous game Truth or Dare, this was absolutely nothing. “Yeah. I don’t think anyone will be offended by some man tits.”

Sawamura bit his lip to hold back what must be laughter. “ _Man tits?_ ” He repeats with a small hint of concern in his voice.

“Yes, Sawamura, _man tits._ Now could you please give me your jacket? It’s really cold.”

Sawamura actually laughs at that. Sawamura’s laugh was kind of like a gold nugget: way too rare to be fair to this world, yet it’s all worthwhile once it’s found. “What, are your _man tits_ cold?”

“Yes, actually!” Suga chatters his teeth dramatically and wraps his arms around himself to try to develop some sense of warmth. There were actual goosebumps running up and down his arms.

Before he knew it, a big, warm jacket was draped over his shoulders. It smelled like… coconuts, kind of, either that or the smell of a warm fireplace after a cold day outside. Yeah, that summed it up. “Thanks,” he says again, and he eagerly threads his arms through the baggy sleeves that, he happily noticed, just barely surpassed his fingertips. Was Daichi really that much taller than him? He zipped it up and settled his hands in the front pockets and oh _boy_ he was never giving this back.

“No problem.” And then Suga looked up to see Daichi without a jacket on, just a plain white t-shirt, the half see-through kind that if a certain guy with a decent amount of muscles wore, the sleeves would sort of fasten to their arms in a way that would make any onlooker thinking _holy fuck, this guy works out._ But not the gross-muscly where it looks like their entire body was chiseled from wood or something, but the soft, impressive muscles.

Suga gulps.

“Wanna get waffles?” Suga asks stupidly, but with full confidence as if asking to get waffles at 11 pm was a normal thing to do.

“Waffles?” Sawamura repeats, and Suga nods as if this was a _yeah, duh_ sort of thing.

“Yeah, at like, IHOP or something.”

“Suga, it’s 11 pm,” Sawamura says, making that expression again where he bites his lip and tries not to laugh. “I’m pretty sure IHOP isn’t open right now.”

“Well… that’s stupid. I’m sure lots of people would _love_ to get waffles at this hour.”

“Sure they will. I’m pretty sure IHOP isn’t even open for _dinner_. Besides, do they even _have_ waffles there?”  
Suga folds his arms stubbornly, “pfft, of course they do. What kind of breakfast place doesn’t have waffles?”

Sawamura suddenly looked very tired, “Sugawara, it’s a _pancake_ house. International House of _Pancakes._ ”

Suga actually frowns in thought and doesn’t even address the fact that he was obviously wrong, “wanna go buy some Eggos then?”

And that’s exactly how they ended up buying toaster waffles at 11 pm (Sawamura drove while Sugawara looked ready to doze off at any moment in the passenger’s seat), drove back to Sugawara’s house and very, very quietly toasted the waffles and crawled up on the roof to eat them.

“Isn’t it kind of crazy that we met, like, an hour ago?” Sugawara was reclined back to his elbows, his now-empty plate discarded to the side. Sawamura licked his fingers of syrup and put his plate to the side to lay on his back.

“It feels like a lot longer than that, I guess,” Sawamura agrees. Suga could tell just by the sound of his voice that he was ready to fall asleep. His words were drawn out and longer than they were earlier when Sawamura was attempting to scold Suga to not climb onto the roof, but look where that got them.

Sugawara had fallen off of his roof before, and he discovered that the two-story fall wasn’t enough to kill you, but it was enough to break your arm. His room had a window with a somewhat sturdy sill that made it pretty easy to crawl onto the roof, so naturally Suga did it all the time. Especially on nights like this, where there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the moon was nothing more than a sliver; the stars were so bright on summer nights like this, and the gentle breeze was a nice cooling temperature, yet warm enough that you didn’t need a jacket. So, with this logic, Suga could technically crawl back into his room and get his own shirt, but why in the hell would he do that when he could wear Sawamura’s?

Well, first of all, he was overheating to death, nearly, but Sawamura didn’t need to know that.

“So, why did you come to the party in the first place?’

Sugawara turns his head to the side to look at Sawamura, who was still looking up to the stars. Shit, he had a heavenly side-profile. Not that Suga _cared_ or anything. All of the thoughts running through his mind were _strictly_ heterosexual.

“I don’t know,” Suga admits, “I just felt lame as a high school grad who’s only been to one party.”

“High school grad, huh?” Sawamura muses, and for a second, there’s a flicker of fear. What if Sawamura was actually a creepy thirty-year-old man who lived in his parents’ basement? “Me too.”

“Really?” Sugawara props himself up on an elbow to get a better look into his face, “where from?”  
“Karasuno.”

Suga’s jaw drops, “ _really?_ I went to Karasuno too! It’s so weird that we never ran into each other.” That was it. This was fate. It had to be. God bless that asshole Chad that allowed these two to cross paths. Actually, bless Asahi for being unable to come to band practice and thus make everyone lose their minds enough to make Suga need an escape.

Sawamura mimics Suga’s movement of being leaned on one elbow, and he laughs in amusement, “that is kind of crazy. But, I did move here just a year ago, so that’s probably it.”  
Suga hums. There were a few seconds of comfortable silence were in an unspoken demand they both looked back to the stars in unison. “Where did you move from?” Suga asked. It was bizarre, but he wanted to get to know this stranger. There was this… bond that felt older than the duration they had known one another.

“New York,” Sawamura sighs, and Suga swims in the way his voice was filled with fond memory. It was incredible how many layers there must be to that era of his life— so many layers Suga was eager to unfold.

“New York? That’s really far. Did you live in the city?”

“No, I lived in the suburbs. The city was just a half hour drive, though. My friends and I would go down there all the time. Have you ever been?”  
Suga sucks in his breath, “nope. I will soon, though! I’m going to college there.”

Even in the darkness, Suga can sense how Sawamura’s face lit up at that comment, “really? So am I! NYU?”  
“Yeah… dang, Sawamura, are you some kind of stalker or something? There have been an _awful_ lot of similarities between us. Let me guess, you also played volleyball in high school?” Wow, _and_ they were going to the same college? At this point, the coincidences were scary.

“I’m not a stalker!” Sawamura says defensively with an accompanying shove, not hard enough to make Suga slide down the roof, but hard enough to only encourage Suga’s gentle laughter, “and yes, I did. I was team captain… well, actually, when I moved here I had a knee injury so I couldn’t play all year.”

“You were out the whole year? Awh, I’m sorry. That must’ve been really hard.”

Sawamura hums. “Yeah… but I think you’ll really like the NYU campus. The way it’s spread out gives you a really great feel for the city, even if you’ve never been there before. Like, there’s this great coffee shop down the street from the main freshman dorms building…”

Maybe Sawamura was talking for five minutes, or maybe twenty, but Suga held on to every detail. He watched Sawamura as he watched the stars, listened to him describe the chai lattes from this coffee shop, or how it snows in time for Christmas but that Suga had to be sure to wear lots of layers to ensure he didn’t catch a cold. _“It’s colder than fuck in the winter,”_ Sawamura had said. Suga had laughed.

“Sorry,” Sawamura says suddenly, “I’ve been rambling, haven’t I?” His low voice was softer, questioning, and harnessing an expression Sugawara couldn’t exactly read. Who in the world put Sawamura down for talking when he was excited about something? He was so… cute when he got all excited.

“I don’t mind,” Suga interjects quickly, but reassuringly his hand finds its way to Sawamura’s shoulder. “You sounded really excited when you talked about New York. Besides, you’ve just committed yourself to being my personal guide.”

Sawamura chuckles. His laugh was like music, geez. “If you say so. Now, you better get inside before you fall off this roof.”

“Oh please, I’ve been on this roof more times than I can count-” As if by karma (very much by karma), Suga placed his foot on his used waffle plate as opposed to the roof, and his foot slipped. He panicked as he slipped down a little, his foot in thin air of what must be the edge of his roof, and in a frenzy he grabbed the closest thing to stabilize him, which happened to be Sawamura.

He squeezed his eyes shut, just waiting for the feeling of a broken bone, but the moment never came. Instead, he felt… like there was a big, weighted blanket around him.

Suga opened his eyes slowly, only to find that he was, after all, not on the ground. Or maybe he died and this was heaven.

He looked up to see that it was Sawamura who had caught him from falling with his arms secured around his body. Sawamura seemed to have skidded down a little bit, but now he remained firm in his place. “You okay?” Sawamura’s voice came, a little breathless. Suga was so close to him that his forehead was against his neck. He could feel the vibration of his voice while he talked. _Yeah, this is definitely heaven._

“I’m okay,” Suga says weakly, detaching himself from Sawamura’s arms with utmost reluctance. He _did_ give the best hugs. “Sorry about that.”

He grimaced at the following sound of a crash to what must’ve been the used waffle plate he accidentally kicked off the roof. It was undeniably shattered.

“Koushi!” Came his mother’s screech, and he grimaced at the sound of his parents’ bedroom window opening, “are you on the roof again?!”  
Sugawara clears his throat, “…no?”

“Get your ass back in your room and go to sleep!”

“Sorry, Mom! I’ll clean up the plate in the morning!” There was no response other than the screech of the window shutting again, and Sugawara exhaled in relief. He had just been afraid that his mother would come up to see her son blasted drunk with a stranger.

“I thought you’ve come up here countless times before,” Sawamura says, his brow arched and his expression insufferably smug.

“Shut it, Sawamura.”

______________________

Hangovers fucking _sucked._

This was a fact that Sugawara was somewhat acquainted with as, despite his minimal high school party experience, he was fairly versed in drinking with his friends until ungodly hours in the morning, falling asleep, and waking up with the urge to _die_ at how bad the headaches were. The movies weren’t lying about that, Suga learned that the hard way.

The sun was _way_ too bright, even with the buffer of the curtains, and there was definitely something conflicting in Suga’s stomach, but he couldn’t pinpoint just what it was. His mouth tasted bad. God. What the hell was he up to last night, anyways?

Suga sat up, groaned, and returned to his back to stare at his pale ceiling.

Oh.

_Oh._

Now he could remember the certain model-worthy hunk of _man_ that swooped in like some superhero and oh geez Suga said a lot of embarrassing things last night. But he said those embarrassing things and this guy didn’t ditch him afterward. He must be some guy. Sawamura… Suga sighed. He never got his number, or a remote idea of where he could find him again. He felt a deep rooted sense of regret that he couldn’t quite explain to himself as, in theory, he had only known the guy for a few hours. But they connected in a way he couldn’t express.

Instead of allowing himself to reflect on this, Suga hauled himself to his feet despite the way it made his head spin even more, padded across his floor (he tripped over a discarded shirt), and opened the blinds to let all the light of hell to stream into Sugawara’s room. _See? It’s not so bad. Maybe hangovers aren’t so-_

And, frankly, Suga threw up not a second later.

_Just kidding._

_This fucking sucks._


End file.
